


Lay me to sleep

by mapi_littleowl



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, D/s themes, Dom!Combeferre, M/M, Top!Combeferre, bottom!enjolras, handjob, sub!enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-14
Updated: 2014-02-14
Packaged: 2018-01-12 09:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1184493
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mapi_littleowl/pseuds/mapi_littleowl
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Enjolras hesitates and Combeferre knows how hard it is for him to stand still, to wait and submit, to let another take charge like this. It's hard for him, but sometimes it's also what he needs, and this is why Combeferre is here. To guide him when his thoughts reach too high above, to placate him with a gentle hand when he asks too much to himself.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lay me to sleep

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written for an Italian Challenge (which incidentally also accepts works in English, yay them), the [COW-T 4](http://maridichallenge.livejournal.com/) @ [maridichallenge](http://maridichallenge.livejournal.com) for Mission 3, prompt BDSM.

The dim flame of one lonely candle flickers weakly in the dark room. Its light is barely enough to distinguish the silhouette of a bed, a closet in the corner and a few other pieces of furniture scattered along the walls, but the young man sitting at the desk doesn't seem to notice, or to care. His head and shoulders are stubbornly bent forward as he keeps writing lists and plans on the various sheets of paper laying in front of him, and the light scratching of the pen on paper is the only sound in the room, amplified by the absolute nothingness that surrounds the late hours of the night.

Enjolras doesn't feel tired, not at all. His head is a furnace working frantically, and his body seems unaware of the hours passing, his senses only focused in what he's doing right now. He doesn't crave for food, water, or sleep. The only thing he wants is to see the words taking shape under his hands, the ink marking the paper as he studies logistics, defines his plans and tries to pick the best phrases to inspire his fellow citizens.

It takes him a moment to realize his door is slowly opening, but he doesn't react at the intrusion. He would recognize those footsteps among thousands others, but even if he didn't there is only one person that would choose to come unannounced to his room this late at night.

"Enjolras?"

He doesn't lift his head off the papers, nor he makes a gesture to acknowledge he heard the other man. "Combeferre," he greets him, as he dips his pen in the ink, "what can I do for you?"

He doesn't see him, but he can somehow feel Combeferre looking around in the dark room and eventually smiling gently down at him. "I suspected you would still be working this late. Don't you think you should rest?"

Enjolras lifts the paper to study it closer to the light and then sets it aside to make the ink dry, still not turning around. "You're not resting, either."

Combeferre walks up to him, standing right behind his chair. "True. But at least I'm not working right now."

"I am not tired, and besides, why should we wait? What we can do, we should do as soon as possible. Also, for the past few days I have been thinking that I've heard nothing from other groups lately, and we need to check on them, make sure they're still ready and willing to fight. It's something we must do tomorrow first thing."

Enjolras isn't sure that he hears Combeferre chuckling. "This doesn't explain why you are up so late."

"I'm writing pamphlets," he replies, his hand always steady as he lets it slide on the papers. He picks one sheet with the other hand and puts it near the candle light where Combeferre could see it better. "Here's a list of the people we need to talk to. As you can see, there's quite a few of them. I will go and speak to the Cougorde, but I'll need everyone to do their part."

Combeferre studies the list Enjolras is showing him and nods. "You're right. With the Day approaching, I do believe, too, that it's necessary to make sure we know who we can count on." He scrubs his chin with his short nails. "I'll go, let's see, I'll go to Picpus tomorrow, if it's alright with you. I have some business to attend in the area, anyway."

For the first time Enjolras tilts his head. "Very well."

Combeferre steps a bit closer to the chair. "Now, will you stop working? For tonight, at least? I can see you've gone pretty far: you can rest without guilt, I promise you."

"You can go to sleep, Combeferre," Enjolras replies instead, going back to focus on his work. "I'm fine. I'll finish writing this and then I promise you I'll sleep a bit. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"Enjolras," Combeferre says, putting his hand on the other's shoulder. He feels the muscles tensing under his touch, but Enjolras doesn't try to shake it off and Combeferre starts moving his thumb in circles, caressing the nape of his neck in a slow motion. 

His voice is soft, but there's no hesitation in his words. "Stop working for tonight and get some rest, please."

Enjolras doesn't reply at first, doesn't even move his head, but he lets the pen down, resting it on the unfinished draft in front of him. He nods eventually, but he still doesn't lift his head to meet Combeferre's eyes. "I probably should," he says, his voice so low that even if it's only the two of them and the silence is absolute Combeferre can't be sure he really heard him speaking. "Still, I don't know if I can do it alone."

Combeferre smiles at the shyness of his voice. It's not the first time he asks this, but every time he's still hesitant, as if he's afraid Combeferre would be disgusted with him, what he needs, and would step away from him. It's his job, Combeferre thinks, to always reassure his friend on that matter: "If you need something, you know you only have to ask," he says, and he moves his hand from the other boy's shoulder to the back of his neck, placing it there with gentleness, but still firmly.

Enjolras licks his lips and the faint shaking of his body stops gradually as the hand on his neck makes his skin warmer. He inhales and eventually, with a steadier voice, he says: "Will you assist me tonight? Will you help me find some rest?"

Combeferre's smile never abandons his features. "Of course I will, Enjolras," he says, and steps away from him, letting his fingers brush against the other boy's skin when he removes them from his neck.

He walks to the other side of the room, the darkest one, and sits on the edge of the bed, still looking at Enjolras who's frowning over his desk, probably still debating inside his mind whether it is really alright to leave his work unfinished. It's not rare, that he needs to think this further, so Combeferre patiently waits for him, his hands resting on his lap.

It takes a couple of minutes before Enjolras finally turns to face Combeferre, who nods briefly in silent assurance, and they just face each other for a little while, both quiet in the dark, silent room.

Combeferre waits a little longer, studying the profile of the other boy shining when enlightened by the little flame, and finally he sits a bit more comfortably on the bed, and pats his right knee lightly with his hand.

Even in the darkness Enjolras can see it, and the simple gesture, one that could pass unnoticed by many, if they were in other company, makes him straighten his back completely and, eventually, stand on his feet.

When he moves, the room seems to suddenly take life. The stillness is broken, and now the wind and the pale light of the moon seem to burst into the window, filling the place that before seemed unapproachable. "You want more light?" Enjolras asks, and Combeferre shakes his head.

"If you're fine, I'm fine."

Enjolras takes the candle, that is half consumed now, and places it closer to the bed where Combeferre is sitting, enlightening that side of the room a little bit. "This will do," he says, and when Combeferre nods in agreement Enjolras takes a deep breath and slowly, gracefully drops on the floor, right between his friend's legs.

His knees brush on the wooden boards and he settles comfortably on his calves before he leans in and presses his forehead on Combeferre's tight, never once breaking eye contact with him.

Combeferre just smiles. "Good boy." He raises his hand and rests it on the top of Enjolras' head, stroking his hair gently, caressing his scalp ever so slowly until he hears the other boy moaning appreciatively, relaxing a little under his touch. "Very good. Now, talk to me. Are you still thinking about the drafts of your pamphlets? About those groups we should talk to?"

Enjolras doesn't make a habit out of lying, and definitely not to one of his closest friends. "Yes."

"We should fix that, shouldn't we?"

Enjolras close his eyes for a little while, his breath heavy and steady. He doesn't speak right away, and Combeferre waits for him, still focused on caressing his hair as if he has all the time in the world. Eventually, Enjolras opens his eyes again and replies: "Yes. Please."

Combeferre's smile shines brightly in the light of the candle. He stops caressing Enjolras' hair and gently places his fingers under his chin, tilting it up so the other boy has to straighten his back to face him. "Will you take your clothes off?"

It's put as a question, but Enjolras can recognize an order when he hears one. He nods slowly, caresses his bottom lip with his tongue, and then he stands up. He still looks every ounce of the fearless leader he is during the day, but Combeferre's trained eyes can recognize the signs of tiredness, the slightly weighted shoulders, the heavy eyelids, the shaky hands he tries to keep still, and encourages him with a nod and a smile.

Enjolras unbuttons his shirt with no hurry, revealing portions of a white neck, pointy collarbones and thin shoulders, rosy nipples that seem dark on that pale body, a figure so slim one can almost see the sign of his ribs under his skin and around his flat stomach, and a soft belly still half hidden under his pants.

Enjolras lets the shirt slide over his arms that Combeferre knows are way stronger than they look, and he holds the shirt in his hands, folding it carefully and placing it on the chair behind himself. He feels his face heating up and his cheeks blushing, but Combeferre doesn't seem to notice or doesn't care to point it out. He just looks at him and nods, his hands both pressed on each of his knees. "You look beautiful," he tells him appreciatively, and then adds: "Go on."

Enjolras licks his lips as he disposes of his shoes and socks and places them under his chair, then he unfastens his pants, lowers them gently to his ankles and steps out of them. He collects them off the floor and folds them neatly the same way he had with his shirt before he puts them on the chair and this time he doesn't wait for Combeferre encouragement to drop his underwear along his firm thighs, the gentle line of his knees and calves, and they are put away with the rest of his clothes.

When Enjolras returns to face Combeferre he is completely naked and exposed, pale in the light of the candle, his face flushed and his hands faintly shaking at his sides, maybe because he is suddenly cold, or maybe because he's fighting the urge to cover his growing erection.

Combeferre lifts a hand and Enjolras takes a big step toward the bed and goes back on his knees in front of the other boy. The proximity of another body is reassuring and warm, and Combeferre gives him a minute, pulling his blond curls back on his forehead, and then he digs his hand in his hair, caressing it in long strokes from the tip of his head to his neck, and then again from the start as he whispers sweet nothings until Enjolras relaxes once again, his cheek pressed against his leg.

"Are you alright, Dear?"

Enjolras nods and when Combeferre doesn't say and doesn't do anything, he speaks up: "Yes. Yes I am."

Combeferre smiles. "Good. Good boy. Are you ready to go on?" He caresses his cheek and his hair, then slowly trails his hand down to his neck and his flushing shoulder, making Enjolras tremble. Yet, his voice is steady when he replies: "Yes."

Combeferre pulls his hand away and as if it is a silent signal between them Enjolras straightens his back and shudders at the sudden lack of contact, but he doesn't say anything and Combeferre doesn't mentions it, either. Instead, he places his hands at his sides on the bed and pulls his shoulders back a little to give Enjolras more room.  
"Will you help me get rid of my clothes, too, now?"

The answer is, of course, yes, and Enjolras steadies himself on his knees before he pulls one of Combeferre's legs up in order to remove his boot. He takes it off with no apparent effort, making the leather caress the other boy's solid leg and then he does the same with the other shoe, and when he's done with his socks he places everything on the side, away from them.

Combeferre brushes his knuckles on Enjolras' cheek when he's done, and before he can start working his pants open Combeferre takes his wrists with both hands, lifting them up to his chest.

"Start from here."

Enjolras doesn't make him repeat it twice. He helps him taking off his jacket, then undoes the knot of his cravat, putting them on the bed next to Combeferre, who nods his approval as Enjolras starts to unbutton his waistcoat and then his shirt, slowly and meticulously, and as he peels another layer of clothing off his friend he becomes bolder and his movements steadier, his breath irregular and shallow, and soon Combeferre is naked as well, his clothes neatly disposed off.

When Combeferre allows it Enjolras leans in to press his forehead against his chest for a moment and then he wraps his arms around his waist, resting his cheek against Combeferre's warm, massive belly.

Combeferre caresses his shoulders and his spine lightly with his fingertips as he speaks: "You've been very good, Dear. Now, if you will, I'll put you on my lap, and I'll help you purge a little of this tension away from your body. Then, when you'll be ready again, I'll have you. Is this alright with you?"

Enjolras nods, rubbing his cheek against the softness of his body, and Combeferre chuckles and pulls one of his curls. "Very well. Now, let's get started. Up you go."

Enjolras uses Combeferre's thighs for leverage and gets up on his feet, his knees shaking not in pain or fear but in eagerness to be held by the other. Combeferre's face is plain and gentle, his smile welcoming and reassuring; he places both hands on Enjolras' hips, caressing his skin gently, and he slides back even further on the bed.

Enjolras follows him. He places his hands on Combeferre's shoulders lightly and climbs on the bed, sitting astride him and exhales deeply as he settles down more comfortably. When Enjolras is in place Combeferre caresses his sides teasingly and then moves his hands up to Enjolras' wrists, holding them and pushing them back gently until they are crossed behind his back.

Enjolras struggles a bit to keep his balance, and Combeferre lifts a hand and guides the other's head down to press his forehead on his shoulder.

"Better?" he asks, and Enjolras nods slowly.

"Yes."

"Will you stand still?"

"Yes."

Combeferre lets his fingertips brush along Enjolras' spine and he shivers, his eyes closed tight and his legs shaking on the mattress. He flexes his elbows and grinds his teeth as he struggles to keep his hands in place. Combeferre, of course, doesn't fail to notice it. He caresses Enjolras' hair, making him tilt his head a bit to the side. He says: "Do you need me to tie your hands?"

Enjolras shakes his head stubbornly. "No."

Combeferre smiles, kisses Enjolras' shoulder and caresses his arms languidly. "You are really good, Dear. I'm really proud of you," he says, and he moves his hands between them to touch the other boy's chest, his belly, and Enjolras tenses as Combeferre's fingers travel over his groin, barely touching the tender skin of his inner thigh up and down. He moves his attention to the other leg and Enjolras squirms uncontrollably, trying not to roll his hips too much into the touch, and Combeferre kisses his hair gently, whispering sweet nothings in his ear. Enjolras stretches his back and clenches his fists, bracing himself in anticipation before Combeferre stops teasing him and finally grabs him in his hand.

Enjolras shouts against his skin, eyes and mouth wide open, and Combeferre starts moving his fingers along his length, caressing his tender, sensitive skin languidly and then suddenly in sharp movements, repeatedly changing the pace to make the other moan and scream and tremble against his skin.

"You are doing very good," Combeferre says, using the other hand to take care of his balls; he weights them on his palm, caresses them, squeezes them gently, one first and then the other, and once he's satisfied he slides his fingers between his buttocks slowly, probing his entrance with just a knuckle, more teasing than actually giving him what he need.

The hand around his cock is still moving, still sending sparks up and down Enjolras' spine. He's trying to stay still, to keep his hands crossed behind his back and avoid to roll his hips too much. He's trembling and panting and moaning, looking more human now than ever, and Combeferre he's proud he's the one who could see him like this, the one who could make him look so desperate and vulnerable and undone, so different from the marble statue he shows the whole world.

He's proud, yes, but also overwhelmed by it. Enjolras is strong, and absolute, and has given him his trust. He trusts Combeferre to help him and not taking advantage of his current state, of this fragility he's showing to him alone, and the enormity of it makes Combeferre feel a tight knot in his chest.

"'Ferre…"

Enjolras' quiet moan brings him back to the present, and Combeferre shushes him gently with tender kisses on his head while his hands and fingers tease and probe and stimulate him. "It's alright. I'm here. You're doing so good. Are you ready to come?"

Enjolras' shoulders tremble and Combeferre feels the other boy's knees quiver alongside his thighs. He's mostly undone, heavy and desperate, but he keeps his stance stubbornly and Combeferre couldn't be more proud of him. "It's alright, Dear. Come whenever you want."

Enjolras nods, his weight now completely on the other, and it doesn't take long for him to finally spend. His shoulders tremble, his back straighten, and he can only manage to raise his head a little and moan aloud before his body gives in and he comes. The orgasm is powerful, way more than Combeferre has predicted, and it makes him wonder how much Enjolras has been holding back these last few days, how much he had needed this.

He ponders if he should tell him something. Enjolras should know he just has to ask, that he can't forget about himself and let it all build up inside him. Combeferre helps him straighten and takes care of his arms, silently and efficiently. Enjolras is spent, tired, in a bliss, and Combeferre thinks he will say something, but not now, not when Enjolras is so weak and pliant, so eager to agree to whatever Combeferre has to say only to forget about it the moment he come out from this slumber.

"You are so beautiful."

"I made a mess," Enjolras says, pointing with his chin at his and Combeferre's chest where is come is dripping heavily.

Combeferre just smiles. "I'll take care of this," he assures, manhandling the other so he lays on the bed, his arms around his face and his legs slightly parted in an innocent invitation. Combeferre caresses his throat, his navel and smiles when Enjolras rises to meet his touch.

"Can you stay still for a moment? Can you let me take care of everything?"

Enjolras hesitates and Combeferre knows how hard it is for him to stand still, to wait and submit, to let another take charge like this. It's hard for him, but sometimes it's also what he needs, and this is why Combeferre is here. To guide him when his thoughts reach too high above, to placate him with a gentle hand when he asks too much to himself.

"Enjolras?"

"Yes," the other replies weakly. "Yes, I can. And I will."

"Very good."

The candle is consumed by now and Combeferre disposes of it, putting a new one in its place, then, unbothered by his own lack of garments and his growing erection, he starts moving around the room. He goes at the desk and rearranges it, putting everything in its proper place, then he reaches for a clean, damp cloth and cleans himself, and with another one he starts cleaning Enjolras.

It's not thorough, and he knows it has no use since he had promised the other boy more would come, but it buys time and right now it is what he needs. He takes his time and when he's done he can see Enjolras flushing beneath him, his chest raising, his erection back, throbbing between his parted thighs.

Combeferre kisses his forehead. "Just wait a little longer, I need to have us both ready for it." Enjolras quivers and Combeferre looks at him compassionately. "I know it's difficult, but I can help. I can always restrain you, if you want."

Enjolras appears to be considering it, but he eventually shakes his head again. "I can do this. Otherwise, it would be pointless."

Combeferre wants to tell him that there's absolutely nothing wrong with that, that he's allowed to be helped, but Enjolras wants to prove him he's strong, even now, so he lets it slide. "Very well," he says, and he reaches for the tallow, spreading it on his fingers carefully under Enjolras' eager glare.

He climbs on the bed and positions himself between the other boy's spread thighs before he presses the tip of his finger to his hole. Enjolras tenses but his cock reacts keenly at the intrusion, so Combeferre insists and slides it in, opening him. Enjolras moans and pushes his hips up against him, urging him to do more, but Combeferre takes his time probing him, filing him, one finger after another, two, three, and he keeps stretching him even when Enjolras trembles and swear he's ready to take him, he is, so please, please, just do it.

Combeferre smiles, his eyelids heavy, his own erection painfully hard, and he touches himself with his free hand, spreading the tallow on his shaft, and when he deems himself and the other finally ready he pulls his fingers out from the other, holds his hips in place and thrusts forward.

He takes him slowly at first, still fighting against the tightness of his body, its heat, and he just stands there, filling the other, letting him adjust to the intrusion. Combeferre kisses his temple, the bridge of his nose, and when Enjolras' pleas and moans start to become desperate Combeferre finally moves.

He holds Enjolras in place as he fucks into him, taking him, filling him, and after a little while the other stops pushing back, stops asking for more. He goes limp and just takes it, takes everything Combeferre has to give, his voice raising with screams and moans. Combeferre wraps his hand around him and starts stroking him again, looming over him until he has his forehead pressed against the other's.

They are close now, closer than they could ever be, connected in their most intimate parts, their mouths inches from one another and their voices mixing in the thin air between them. They're moaning and panting and gasping and then they come, Enjolras first and Combeferre soon after, with just a couple of powerful thrusts into Enjolras' sensitive body.

They lay there, still connected, one beside the other, smiling weakly as sleeps comes to claim them both.

Combeferre struggles to lift himself on his elbows and as he slides out of him he combs Enjolras' damp hair neatly off his forehead, caressing his skin. "I need you to be under your covers, Enjolras," he said, and with some effort and little help from the other he manages to manhandle Enjolras under his blanket, following immediately.

"You're staying?"

"If you want me to, yes."

Enjolras smiles, both happy and tired. "I want you to. Sleep with me."

Combeferre holds him into his arms and rests his head beside him, tucking them both in. It's warm in there, skin against skin, heavy breaths that become more regular as they let sleep have the best of them, and Combeferre barely notice the flickering light of the candle tremble in the air and extinguishing, accompanying them to sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Valentine's Day! :D


End file.
